Chapter 12
TWELVE
CAL
Cal took the beer. Cold against his palm. Grounding. “Interrogation. At least you’re honest about it.”
“No point being anything else.” Theo gestured to an empty chair. “Sit. This isn’t a trial. We want to know what we’re dealing with.”
Cal sat. The leather creaked beneath him. He took a long pull of the beer—it was good, rich and complex—and waited.
The silence stretched. A test, Cal recognized. See who breaks first.
He didn’t break. He’d sat across from Fortune 500 CEOs and hostile board members and investors who could make or break his company with a phone call. Five small-town alphas weren’t going to rattle him.
Wyatt spoke first. His voice was low, measured, carrying no particular inflection. “Your sleuth is dying. What are you going to do about it?”
Straight for the throat. Cal respected that.
“Fix it.”
“How?”
“I’m still figuring that out.” Honesty. Margot had said they’d smell lies. “I’m three days in. I don’t have a complete plan yet, but I’m working on it.”
“And after time’s up?” Hux leaned forward, that politician’s smile still in place. “Do you stay? Or do you fix what you can and run back to Seattle?”
The question landed harder than it should have. “I haven’t decided.”
“Honest answer.” Leo spoke for the first time, his voice carrying a faint trace of what might have been approval. “Most people would have lied. Said they were committed, planning to stay forever, whatever sounds good.”
“I don’t see the point in lying to people who can smell it.”
Beck snorted. “Smart bear.”
“Smart enough to build a company worth eight figures from nothing.” Hux’s smile sharpened. “We looked you up. Ursa Consulting. Impressive client list. Impressive growth trajectory. You’ve been busy in Seattle.”
“Is that a compliment or an accusation?”
“Observation.” Theo’s ice-blue stare hadn’t wavered. “You’ve been building an empire while your sleuth fell apart. Some people might call that abandonment.”
Cal’s bear snarled. He kept his voice level. “Some people might be right.”
That seemed to catch them off guard. Even Wyatt’s impassive expression flickered.
“I left,” Cal continued. “I stayed away. I told myself I was proving something, that I was better off making my own way. Maybe I was. Maybe I was running.” He took another pull of beer. “Either way, I’m here now. That’s all I can offer.”
Silence again. Different this time. Less hostile, more... considering.
Leo shifted in his seat. His amber focus—cat’s eyes, hunter’s eyes—studied Cal with unsettling intensity. “You look like I did eight months ago. Burning through yourself and calling it a strategy.”
Cal frowned. “Meaning?”
Leo’s mouth curved, but there was no humor in it. “Then I came here. Met Junie. Realized I’d been slowly killing myself and calling it success.”
Cal didn’t answer. Couldn’t, because the words hit too close to a truth he’d been avoiding for longer than he wanted to admit.
Beck cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “Okay, enough psychoanalysis. Let’s talk about the actual problem.” He turned to Cal. “Magnus Ironwood. What do you know?”
Theo stood, moving to a cabinet against the wall. He pulled out a folder—thick, worn at the edges from frequent handling—and dropped it on the table in front of Cal. “This is what we’ve been tracking for the past two years.”
Cal opened the folder. Maps. Financial records. Property transfers. A timeline that stretched back not months but years, documenting a systematic campaign of acquisition and pressure by Magnus.
“Why?” Cal flipped through the documents, his corporate mind already mapping connections. “What does he want?”
Cal’s bear growled. He didn’t bother suppressing it this time.
“He’s also after the ward anchors.” Hux had lost his politician’s smile. “Bear territory contains critical points in Haven Shores’s magical infrastructure. If Magnus controls those points, he can leverage the entire town.”
“And it’s not the mountains alone.” Theo’s voice hardened. “His claims extend into downtown. According to his ‘historical surveys’—” he made air quotes, contempt dripping from the words “—half of Main Street sits on Ironwood territory.”
Cal’s mind flashed to a butter-yellow bakery.
“Including the land under the Honey & Hex Bakery.” Theo watched his reaction. “You understand what that means.”
Cal’s bear went very, very still.
“I understand.” His voice didn’t sound like his own. Rougher. Darker. “The baker loses everything.”
“Dahlia Moon.” Beck’s easy demeanor had shifted into focus. “She’s important to this town. Her grandmother started that bakery sixty years ago. The Moons have been feeding Haven Shores’s magic for four generations.” The beta’s eyes narrowed. “And she’s a friend.”
Cal’s bear perked at her name. That inconvenient awareness he’d been fighting surged forward, demanding attention.
“I’ve met her.” He kept his voice neutral. Controlled.
Five pairs of eyes studied his face. Cal felt suddenly, uncomfortably exposed.
Leo’s mouth twitched. “Coffee.”
“That’s what I said.”
Theo turned back to the matter at hand. “Magnus believes integration makes shifters weak,” Theo said.
“He thinks communities like Haven Shores—wolves working with witches, lions mating with humans, bears getting ‘soft’ from too much civilization—are contamination. A disease that needs to be excised.”
“Old-school traditionalist,” Cal said. “I’ve heard the philosophy.”
“Then you know he won’t stop at territorial claims.” Theo’s stare could have frozen the harbor. “If he gets a foothold here, he’ll push until there’s nothing left. Until Haven Shores is either destroyed or remade in his image.”
Cal thought about his grandfather, frail and fading in a bed that smelled of sickness.
About the sleuth members he’d met over the past three days—tired, scared, hanging on by their fingernails.
About a bakery on the boundary line and the woman inside who’d reached straight past his defenses and lodged there.
“What do you want from me?”
“The same thing we wanted from Leo when he showed up.” Hux had regained some of his political polish. “Partnership. Cooperation. Proof that you’re not going to make this worse.”
“And if I can’t give you that proof?”
“Then we handle Magnus ourselves.” Theo’s voice carried no threat, no bluster. Certainty. “We protect this town with or without you. But it would be easier with a functional Ursa sleuth backing us.”
Cal set down his empty beer bottle. Leaned forward. Let them see the alpha that had been buried under years of corporate strategy and controlled aggression.
“I didn’t come here to make things worse.
I came because my grandfather asked me to.
Because my sleuth is in trouble and I’m the only one who can help.
” His bear added force to the words. “Magnus Ironwood doesn’t get to take what’s ours.
Not the territory. Not the denning grounds.
Not the businesses on the boundary line.
” Not her. He didn’t say that part out loud.
“I’ll fight for this town. I need time to figure out how. ”
The room fell silent again. Different than before. Less assessment, more... acknowledgment.
Theo nodded slowly. “Fair enough.” He reached into the cabinet again, pulled out a fresh beer, and offered it. “Welcome to Haven Shores, Callum Ursa. Try not to fuck it up.”